Welcome dear heart,
I'm so happy you've joined me for yet another tea journey.
And before we begin,
Let's gather our keepsakes.
Perhaps in your imagination,
Your little cedar lantern is resting on a favourite shelf nearby.
It's warm glow as comforting as ever.
And beside it hangs your tiny bamboo wind bell.
Waiting patiently for a light breeze.
And next to them lies your smooth piece of seagreen river glass,
Catching the morning light.
Three little reminders of the journeys you've already taken.
Three companions that have travelled home with you.
And today,
There is room beside them for one more.
A keepsake chosen by an ancient bridge.
One that has patiently welcomed travellers for many,
Many years.
Now let's prepare our tea.
Listen as the kettle begins its beautiful song.
Watch the steam rising as you pour hot water over the waiting leaves.
There's no need to hurry.
Tea is never rushed.
Simply unfolds in its own beautiful,
Perfect time.
And as your tea steeps,
Take a long,
Easy breath in.
And slowly breathe out.
And again,
Breathing in peace.
And breathing out the weight of the day.
And one more beautiful slow breath.
Allowing yourself to arrive completely.
Now,
Wrap your hands around your warm cup.
Feel its comforting warmth.
And when you're ready.
Take your very first slow sip.
And as the warmth settles within you,
Imagine a wooden path appearing before you.
The earth is soft beneath your feet.
Tiny ferns unfurl beside the trail.
Moss covers old tree roots like a velvet carpet.
Sunlight filters through tall beech trees.
Creating little pools of golden light upon the forest floor.
And the air smells of damp earth,
Cedar and fresh rain.
And you begin to walk.
There is nowhere to hurry to.
The forest seems to breathe with you.
And you pause and you take another beautiful sip of your tea.
Soon you hear something,
Not loud,
Not demanding,
Just a sound carried through the trees.
The trickling flow of water.
As you continue walking,
The woodland opens before you.
And a narrow stream winds peacefully between smooth stones.
The water is so clear,
You can see every pebble resting on the stream bed below.
Spanning the water as an old stone bridge.
And its rounded arch is covered in soft,
Green moss.
And tiny wild violets grow between the ancient stones.
And each has stood there through countless seasons.
Welcome ye every traveller without asking where they've come from.
Or where they are going.
So just pause for a moment.
And take another sip of your tea.
Now you step onto the bridge.
The stones feel strong beneath your feet.
You rest your hands upon the cool,
Moss-covered wall.
And before you.
The stream continues its journey.
Never rushing.
Never stopping.
Simply flowing.
And you stay here for a little while,
Watching sunlight dance upon the water.
Listening to its peaceful song.
And somehow.
Everything inside you begins to slow.
A small wooden tea pavilion sits at the far end of the bridge.
Simple.
Quiet.
And its doors are already open.
And the teakeeper is waiting beside a low wooden table.
And they smile as you approach.
Is a smile that feels wonderfully familiar.
And they bow,
And you return the bow.
And again without speaking they invite you to sit.
The kettle hums over a tiny charcoal fire.
And the teakeeper pours fresh tea into your cup.
Steam rising once more.
And before drinking.
You simply watch the steam for a moment and notice how it rises effortlessly.
Never forcing itself upward.
Simply following its own nature.
And you take another mindful sip for your tea.
And the teakeeper lifts their own cup.
And for a long while,
Neither of you speaks.
Together you simply listen to the flowing stream.
And you notice now a single leaf drifts beneath the bridge.
It circles around a smooth stone.
Then continues on its way.
And the teakeeper smiles.
And he says,
Have you noticed?
The bridge never asks the river to slow down.
Simply offers a safe place to cross.
Silence now.
And you listen again as the stream continues to flow.
Nothing more is said.
There is nothing more that needs to be said.
The words settle within you.
And perhaps there are things in life that cannot be hurried.
Perhaps there are moments when we're not meant to stop the river,
Only to cross it with kindness and trust.
And now take another slow sip of your tea.
This.
Fine.
And you notice the warmth of your cup,
The peaceful rhythm of your breathing,
The murmur of the stream.
The tea tastes softer now,
Smoother.
Almost as though it's been waiting for this very moment.
And the teakeeper closes their eyes and you do the same.
And for a little while,
There's only stillness.
Only the stream.
Only the warmth of tea,
Shared in peaceful company.
And eventually the teakeeper stands.
It is time,
They say.
And together you return to the bridge.
And halfway across,
The teakeeper kneels beside one of the ancient stones.
And nestled within the moss is a tiny,
Smooth river pebble.
And they lift it carefully.
It is warm from the morning sun.
A delicate white line runs through its centre.
Like a tiny pathway painted by nature itself.
And the teakeeper places it carefully into your open hands,
Closing your fingers around it.
You feel smoothness,
As comforting weight,
As strength.
And they say to you,
This bridge has chosen a keepsake for you.
May this little stone remind you that you have never need to see the whole path.
Only the next loving step.
And you hold the little stone close to your heart.
While you take another sip of your tea.
And as you begin your walk home,
The woodland becomes softer.
The stream fades into the distance.
The bridge disappears amongst the trees.
And the warm fragrance of cedar slowly becomes the familiar scent of the tea resting in your own hands.
You now start to notice the room around you once more.
The Chair supporting you.
The sounds of your home.
Your warm cup waiting patiently.
For one final sip.
And if it feels right.
Receive that final sip now.
And as the warmth settles within you,
You smile.
Somewhere in your imagination,
Your little bridge stone now rests beside your cedar lantern,
Your bamboo and webel,
And your sea green river glass.
Four keepsakes.
Four reminders that life offers wisdom to those who slow down enough to notice.
And whenever the days ahead feel uncertain.
You may find yourself reaching into your pocket,
Feeling the smooth little stone and remembering you never have to cross the whole bridge today.
Only the next loving step.
Until we meet again.
May your cup be full.
May your heart be gentle.
May you trust each step of your journey,
One breath,
One sip,
One small little crossing at a time.
Take your keepsake with you into your week.
And so it is.
Namaste.
